


The Red Line

by destinyofamerath



Series: Steel Towers and Soft Hearts [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinyofamerath/pseuds/destinyofamerath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Aveline suffer a crisis of faith after tragedy strikes the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Line

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This story contains references to character death, blood, and gore. Please proceed with caution.

Aveline tensed when a muffled crash echoed out of the chief’s office as she entered the station that evening, but an entirely different sort of worry filled her as she heard Hawke’s voice yell, “ _Fuck_ your rules!”

Blackwall, already out of uniform and leaving after his day shift, shot her a sympathetic glance as he headed out the door.  “Good luck with that one.  Wish I could help.”

“Liar,” Aveline retorted, depositing her bag at her desk.  “If you really wanted to help, you’d stay.”  However, by the time she turned around, Blackwall had already fled like a criminal from the scene of the crime.

Slowly, Aveline approached the chief’s office, ignoring the way Alistair drew his hand across his neck and shook his head frantically at her.  The door was closed, and the curtains were drawn across the large windows that looked over the officers, working diligently (or not-so-diligently, in some unfortunate cases) at their desks.  She could see that the lights were on though the curtains, but not who was within.

Before she had a chance to get close enough to step into the chief’s office, the door slammed violently open and Marian Hawke stomped out, still snarling insults at Jeven as she left. 

When her eyes locked with Aveline’s, her stormy expression cleared to one of relief.  “Aveline!  Finally, someone with some sense,” she cried.  “Carver has gone missing.  We can’t find him anywhere.”

“Carver?”  Her eyebrows furrowed.  “What happened?”

“He was supposed to meet up with Bethany after school today.  I pick them up most days, but my classes run late on Thursdays, so they usually just walk home together.  When he didn’t show up, Beth called me.  We’ve been looking for him ever since.”

“When was the last time any of you saw him?”

“We both saw him this morning.  I’ve called the office at his school; the attendance said he was in his morning classes, but he’s been gone since lunch, at least.   Please, Aveline,” Hawke pleaded, “We need to find him.  Can you put out a missing person’s report?”

“Belay that order, Detective.”  Finally, Chief Jeven stepped out of his office.  Aveline’s heart sunk down into her stomach as she saw the look on his face.  She had a bad feeling she knew exactly what he was going to say. She knew the laws governing this just as well as he did.

“Serah Hawke,” Jeven began, “I’ve already explained the rules governing these incidents to you more than once - I’m not sure I can make it any plainer.  Since Carver is already eighteen, he’s considered an adult.  If you don’t have any proof that something’s happened to him, he has to be missing for forty-eight hours or more to be considered a missing person, and he hasn’t even been gone for six yet.  Besides,” he continued, “I was under the impression you two don’t get along very well.  It’s not uncommon for boys to run away to a friend’s house for the night if they’re not getting along with a family member, and - “

“You think this is _my fault_?” Hawke rounded on him, the pitch of her voice rising.  This would not end well.  “How can you say that?  How can you say he’s an adult in one breath, then refer to him as a boy in the next?”

“Serah Hawke - “

“Believe what you want about my relationship with my brother, but Carver would never abandon Bethany; he’s far too protective.”

“Then perhaps Bethany is lying to cover for him.”

Aveline dropped a firm hand onto Hawke’s shoulder, partially to comfort her, partially to restrain her. Hawke looked like she was about to attack Jeven.   “Hawke, I don’t like it either,” Aveline said gently, “but the chief is right.  The rules are very clear about this.”

Hawke turned to stare at her incredulously.  “You’re _siding_ with him?”

“There aren’t any - “

“I can’t believe it!  I’m telling you that my brother is _missing_ , I keep saying that something is _wrong_ , and none of you will even _listen to me!_ ”

Jeven shot Aveline _that look_.  “Aveline, I’ll let you take care of this,” he said cooly, turning to head back into his office.

Aveline tried to turn Hawke back toward the entrance to the station, he hands gentle but firm.  “I’ll keep my eyes peeled, Hawke, but I’m sure Carver is fine.  You, however, could stand to be a bit careful.  Jeven has final say over who gets admitted into the police academy, and I know you’ve been working on your application-”

Hawke tore away from her violently, nearly stumbling over a nearby chair in her attempt to get free.  “I don’t _care_ about the blighted police academy, I want to _find my little brother_!”

Aveline held her hands out helplessly.  “The rules are clear, Hawke,” she told her calmly.  “I wish I could do more, but I can’t.”

The glare Hawke shot her hurt almost as much as her words.  “I thought you would help me,” she whispered.  “I thought you were my _friend_.  I can’t believe I trusted you.”

With that, Hawke turned and stormed out of the station herself, unaided.  Aveline tried to pretend she didn’t see the tears burning her friend’s eyes as she marched out of the building, but it felt like the sight was burned into the backs of her eyelids.

Trying to ignore the hushed whispers that were beginning around her, Aveline settled into her desk, barely even seeing the latest report that had landed on her desk.

_I’ll do a patrol downtown after my shift if he hasn’t turned up by then and see if I can pick up any leads_ , Aveline told herself. _Carver will be just fine…_

* * *

The call came well past midnight on Saturday night (Sunday morning?).  Though she was nigh-on unintelligible when she answered the phone after a good half minute of groping around the nightstand, by the time the call was over, Aveline felt like she had downed several cups of coffee within the timespan of a couple of minutes.  Her hands were shaking so badly that it took several tries to even get her keys into the ignition of her car.

The hospital was fairly quiet, despite the constant movement that came with the Saturday night rush.  Nurses murmured quietly, and though every once in a while an unattended patient would groan softly in the waiting room, the doctors were moving through those in need of help quickly.

Leandra and Bethany were in a secluded corner of the waiting room.  Leandra didn’t even glance at her as she approached.  Her eyes were fixed to the ground, one hand pressed to her lips to hold in the silent sobs wracking her shoulders.  Bethany slowly looked to her face when she saw Aveline’s feet approaching, but her expression was blank, her eyes distant.

A nurse stopped her as she stepped closer to the grieving family, gently guiding her away from them and down the hall.  “Aveline Vallen?”  When she nodded, the nurse’s lips pressed together into a fine line.  “I’m sorry for your loss.  It’s always a tragedy to lose one so young.”

The words felt stuck in her throat, but she forced them out anyways.  “What happened?”  She needed to know - for the police investigation, if not for her own peace of mind.

“He was found this morning behind a dumpster downtown - he wasn’t carrying any ID, and it was...difficult to identify him through facial recognition alone.”  The nurse shifted uncomfortably, before moving on to the next topic.  “City workers were moving the dumpster to take it to the landfill.  He was already dead by the time the EMTs arrived on the scene - they think he’s been gone since Friday evening, maybe earlier.  I think your men are coming by in the morning to do the official autopsy.”

They stopped in front of a black door, stark against the blinding, clinical white of the rest of the hospital.  “I want to warn you, it’s not pretty,” the nurse told her.  “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want.  The waiting room is just back down the hall.”

“I see.  Thank you.”  The nurse dipped her head in a nod and departed, leaving Aveline to the ominous black door looming in front of her.  Her hands still shaking, she took hold of the little silver handle and entered the room.

The lights were bright here as well, reflecting off the white and chrome of the walls and floor.  Machines that Aveline didn’t recognize lined the walls, as well as a few she did from Wesley’s extended stay two years ago.  Just walking in the front door of the hospital, with its clinical white walls and sterile smell, already had the memories flickering around the corners of her mind, but nothing brought back the months of watching her husband wasting away quite like this room.

Hawke stood in the middle of the room, facing away from Aveline.  Her short, dark hair was mussed and greasy, as if it hadn’t been brushed or washed in several days.  Her knuckles were white where they gripped the side of the stretcher with the white sheet draped over the top.

Slowly, Hawke disentangled her fingers from the railing surrounding the stretcher, her hands much steadier than Aveline’s had been all evening, and pulled back the sheet from Carver’s cold, dead body.

Aveline inhaled sharply through her teeth, frozen to the spot.

The hospital staff had already washed most of the blood away, which Aveline was grateful for. The only exception was the streak of red across the bridge of his nose. Still, the state of Carver’s body would have sent a lesser woman running. His arm, though it had been straightened, was still at a slightly awkward angle. The tears in his clothes showed the gaping holes in his right side where he had been shot several times.  Worst of all was his face, where his skull dented in grotesquely far.  Aveline wasn’t sure if she simply couldn’t see it from the angle she was standing at, or if his eye on that side was gone entirely.

“Hawke, I…” she stopped midway through.  There were no words she could say to make this better, to heal this hurt.

“Please leave.”  Hawke’s voice was deceptively calm; cool and placid and reserved.

“I didn’t mean to - “

“I told you to get out!” she snapped.  “I don’t want anything to do with you!  Not with you, not with Jeven, and certainly not with your station and your blighted _rules_.”

Though she had yet to turn to face her, Aveline could see her shoulders were heaving, though from anger or tears, she couldn’t tell.

“Just...just _go_ ,” Hawke whispered.

After a moment of hesitation, Aveline turned and left the room, and then the hospital.   Hawke needed time to herself, and Aveline felt that she needed some too.  Besides, she doubted she wanted to be there when Merrill arrived for the autopsy.

* * *

The funeral was held a week later, and though rain surely would have fit the solemn mood of the event, the sky had never been bluer.  Though Aveline had not been asked to attend after Hawke’s outburst, she found herself on the outskirts of the mourners anyways.  The Hawke family had always been good to her - she would not abandon them now.

Hawke was the first to notice her arrival, and her icy blue glare followed Aveline wherever she went, despite the fact that her eyes and face were red and puffy from crying.  Bethany noticed soon after. It would be hard not to, if the shoulder you were crying on was constantly glowering across the mourning party.  Hawke wrapped a protective arm around her sister’s shoulder, drawing her close as she focused on her once more.

Leandra, to her credit, stood tall, her spine rigid and head held high, even as the Revered Mother read her son his last rites and called the closest family members to scatter his ashes to the four winds.  Though she looked as if she hadn’t stopped crying since she had been summoned to the hospital, Aveline didn’t see her shed a single tear throughout the ceremony, though there was a telling shine in her eyes.

The repast was held in a building at the bottom of the hill where Carver’s ashes were scattered.  The main room had a glass wall facing outside, allowing the bright sunlight to stream in and light up the room.  Aveline moved through the mourners gathered like a ghost, only gaining substance to murmur a few consoling words to Leandra or to rest a hand on Bethany’s shoulder in passing.  Then, she slipped away into one of the smaller, side rooms, sat down, and waited.

Hawke didn’t leave her lingering long.  She entered the room and closed the door behind her, regarding Aveline cooly, though her eyes were still sharp.  It was with some surprise that Aveline realized that, though her face was swollen, it was not from tears.  A new mark had appeared since she had seen her last week; a streak of red across the bridge of her nose that was a near match to the one she had seen on Carver’s body.  It was recent - that was why her face still showed the signs of the needle.

“Nice tattoo,” she commented.  “When did you get it?”

Hawke didn’t dignify the words with a response.  “What do you want, Aveline?” she scowled.

Swallowing, Aveline focused her eyes on her hands, folded in front of her.  “You were right,” she murmured.

“Well, if that’s all, if you would - what?”

“I said,” Aveline repeated, raising her eyes to meet Hawke’s, “that you were right.  This never should have happened.”

When Hawke didn’t speak, she pressed on, “Laws exist for a reason, and that’s to protect people - they usually do a pretty good job of that.  The rules governing the police should be the same; making our jobs easier so we can help and protect more people that we normally could.  But our rules are bound up in so much bureaucracy and paper work that sometimes people slip through the cracks.  The rules that are supposed to help them cause people, _good_ people, to end up dead in alleyways, like Carver.”

Standing from her seat, she approached Hawke, resting a hand on her shoulder.  “I’m sorry about your brother.  I know it’s not enough - it never can be.  Part of this was my fault, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for that.  I just wanted to let you know...let you know that I’m sorry,” she told her, stepping past her to open the door to the room and leave.

Then, looking over her shoulder as she walked out, she paused.  “Hawke?”

Hawke did not respond verbally, but Aveline could tell by the way her head turned slightly that she was listening.

“Don’t apply to the police academy.”

* * *

Aveline didn’t speak to Hawke for several months after that, but occasional emails from Leandra kept her updated on her actions.  She couldn’t help but smile when she saw the picture she had sent her of Hawke in her graduation gown with her new degree in Law Enforcement in hand.

She stopped by the office Hawke rented out soon after they had started moving things in.  She couldn’t help but smile at the placard outside the door - _Hawke’s Eye Investigations_.  Briefly, she thanked whoever had talked her out of calling the company _Hawkeward Investigations_.

Bethany, who was sitting at the front desk unpacking office supplies, beamed as soon as she saw her.  “Aveline!” she gasped, jumping up to wrap her arms around her waist.  “It’s been too long!  I missed you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Beth,” Aveline responded with a soft smile, disentangling herself from the girl’s embrace.  “How is Hawke?”

“She’s doing alright.  Mom still thinks the tattoo was impulsive, but she seems to like it.  She’s not as mad at you as before, you know,” she told her.  “You don’t have to stay away.  She’s still upset, but it’s not really directed at you anymore.  She just needs something to direct her anger at.”

“I might have just the thing, then,” Aveline said, pulling the letter from her pocket and handing it to Bethany.  She wasn’t the type to snoop, but it was hard to ignore a letter addressed to the Police Chief stamped by the Coterie sitting on said Chief’s desk.

Bethany looked at it curiously, flipping the envelope over in her hands to open it up.  “What is it?”

Aveline couldn’t help but smile.  “Call Hawke in here.  I think it’s time to tell her she’s got her first case.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! Here's my first crack at a DA fic!
> 
> I have to be honest, I've had this comprehensive modern day Thedas AU bouncing around in my head for weeks now. In some ways, I want to write a huge, multi-chapter fanfiction about it, but to be honest, I have a terrible habit of starting longfics, then abandoning them only a few chapters in because I lose interest. For that reason, I'm writing the AU in the form of a series made up of oneshots, twoshots, and shortfics - that way, I can write as much or as little as I feel so inspired to do. The series won't just focus on DAII stuff - characters from Origins and Inquisition will also be important. In fact, the next couple of ficlets I have planned center around the Inquisitor.
> 
> The little fics aren't necessarily in any order, so, generally, can be read in any order, since I might skip around a bit. This one was kind of my experimental fic for this series, because I wanted to do either the Warden's, Hawke's, or the Inquisitor's backstory as practice while I get all the other details and mini-plotlines together. I felt that Hawke's would be the most difficult to explain within the context of another story, so I went ahead and wrote hers out.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta reader, who's good at telling when I was writing at three in the morning and making no sense.
> 
> Here's to what will hopefully be many more fics written into this series!


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